“Nine,” Edith murmured. “Saidh mentioned that she had eight brothers when we first met, but then she named only seven o’ ye and I thought I’d misheard. But there were nine o’ ye?”
“Aye,” Niels admitted, sounding reluctant. “Ewan died in the same battle that scarred our brother, Auley,” he explained quietly. “The family does no’ talk about it though.”
“Why?” Edith asked.
“I think because we were unable to claim his body and bring him home,” Niels admitted slowly, the brush stilling briefly. “Dougall, Conran and I saw Ewan fall under a broadsword, but after the battle we could no’ find his body.”
“Mayhap he did no’ die,” Edith suggested hopefully.
“He died,” Niels assured her heavily. “He was cleaved in half, Edith. Our brother could no’ have survived that. No one could.”
“Oh,” Edith murmured, and then didn’t know what to say. In the end she merely whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“Thank ye,” was his solemn response.
They both fell silent then and Edith found herself wracking her brain, trying to think of something to say to lighten the moment. A squeal from Ronson distracted her, however, and her gaze focused on the lad as he tackled Laddie, throwing himself over the dog’s back. When the dog merely dropped to the ground and rolled to remove the boy, Niels chuckled softly behind her and Edith felt herself relax. She smiled faintly as they watched the pair play.
“Has Ronson no friends among the children?” Niels asked after a moment.
Edith’s smile faded. “I’m afraid his grandmother has discouraged him from playing with the other children.”
“Why?”
She could hear the frown in his voice, but admitted, “Bessie said that his circumstances will soon change and there was no sense in his making friends with lads he’d soon have nothing to do with.” Clearing her throat, she added, “I do no’ really blame her. She’s probably right. Brodie will listen to Victoria and throw the pair of them out once she convinces him to send me off to the Abbey. Ronson’s grandmother is just trying to ensure he’s hurt as little as possible when that happens. This way he’ll only lose a home and no’ friends along with it.”
“Victoria does no’ like Ronson and his grandmother?” Niels asked quietly.
Edith sighed. “In truth, Victoria does no’ like much of anything at Drummond. If she could replace all the servants, she would.”
“Because they did no’ automatically obey her over you when Brodie took on the temporary mantle of laird while ye’re brothers were sick?”
“Aye,” Edith murmured. “I suspect she’ll try to be free o’ every one o’ the maids that did that as soon as I’m gone. She may even succeed. She’s a smart woman. She’ll find an excuse to manage it.”
“I’m sorry,” Niels said quietly.
“So am I,” she admitted. “They deserve better.”
“I meant fer the pain it’s causing you,” Niels said solemnly. “’Tis obvious ye care fer yer people, and their uncertain future distresses ye.”
Edith turned to meet his gaze and nodded solemnly. “They are me family. Every last one o’ them. I grew up with them here, caring fer me and . . .” She lowered her head on a sigh. “I feel as if I’m failing them by not being able to protect them.”
“Lass, they ken ye’d help them if ye could, but ye can no’ even protect yerself,” he pointed out, and then frowned with displeasure.
She started to turn forward again, but paused when he said, “Edith?”
“Aye?” she asked.
Niels opened his mouth, closed it and then simply shook his head and put the brush back in the bag. “Yer hair is done.”
“Thank ye,” Edith said softly, but eyed him with curiosity. There had been purpose in his eyes for a moment. She was quite sure he’d meant to say something else, but had no idea what. And apparently he’d changed his mind.
Shrugging, she pushed herself to her knees and helped gather up the rest of their picnic items to pack away, then helped him roll up the furs as well. She carried the food sack while he carried the furs and the larger sack with the wet linens and their soiled clothes and they walked to his horse. While he set the furs in their sling and hung the large bag from the saddle, she reached up to try to affix the smaller bag as well and was still struggling with the task when he finished his own chores. Seeing that she was having problems because she wasn’t quite tall enough to attach the bag to the pommel, he stepped up behind her to help.
Edith stilled the moment she felt his chest against her back. There was something so intimate about it, and then she realized that Niels had gone still as well. They both stood there for a moment, back to chest, both holding their breaths, and then he lowered his hands to her waist. He clasped her so lightly that she could have escaped if she’d wanted to, but Edith found her feet unwilling to move and simply stood there waiting. An era seemed to pass and then he murmured, “Yer hair is so beautiful.”
“Thank ye,” Edith breathed, swallowing when he brushed her hair away from her neck. When he then bent to nuzzle her there, she bit her lip to stifle a soft gasp, and found herself leaning back into him. Niels let his arms drift around her then, to cross under her breasts, and Edith clasped them lightly, her head tilting as he nibbled at her ear. When he lifted one hand to catch her chin and turn her face up and back to his, Edith went willingly, even eagerly, and closed her eyes as his lips covered hers. His tongue slid out to nudge its way between her lips, and she opened with surprise and then stilled as his tongue swept in. Edith met the invasion with a moan as a cacophony of sensation burst to life inside her. She was vaguely aware of his hand drifting down her throat and then her chest, but didn’t really pay attention until it stopped to cover one breast and squeezed lightly.
Edith gasped into his mouth as her body responded, her back arching instinctively to push her breast more fully into the caress as his other hand suddenly rose to claim the other one. She had no idea she was pushing back into him with her bottom until she felt the hardness that met her, and then one of his hands slid inside the neckline of her gown to touch her without the cloth between them and Edith cried out into his mouth as he began to pluck at the already hard nipple.
Edith was so distracted by that she definitely didn’t notice his other hand leaving her breast to drift downward until he cupped her between the legs through the cloth and almost lifted her off her feet. This was nothing like it had been when she’d been poking at herself earlier out of curiosity. Even with the cloth between them, this aroused an unbearable excitement in her that she’d never dreamed possible. And it made her want more. The problem was, she wasn’t quite sure what more she wanted. But her body seemed to have ideas of its own and was shifting against his hands, writhing into first one caress and then the other in search of something she didn’t quite understand, and then a high-pitched scream made them both freeze.
In the next moment, Niels was breaking their kiss to mutter, “Ronson,” and then his lovely hands were leaving her and he was gone. For one moment, Edith simply stood there, her brain slow to put everything together, and then she turned and peered around the empty clearing. Even Niels was gone.
Confused, Edith took one staggering step away from Niels’s horse, and then steadied herself before continuing in the general direction she’d thought Ronson’s scream had come from. When she reached the edge of the clearing, she pushed her way into the underbrush in search of both males. The scream they’d heard had been panicked, even terrified, she thought as her brain began to function again and one urgency was traded for another as she began to worry about the boy.
“Are ye all right, lad? What—? Dear God.”
Edith heard Niels’s words just as she pushed through more bushes and nearly trampled both Niels and Ronson before catching herself. Ronson stood frozen with Laddie at his side, while Niels knelt examining something on the ground in front of the boy.
“It’s Lonnie,” Ronson said, sounding scared, and Edith glanced over his shoulder to see a man lying facedown in the dirt, an arrow protruding from his back.
“Who’s Lonnie?” Niels asked, glancing back at Ronson and pausing briefly when he spotted Edith.
“One o’ the soldiers at Drummond,” Edith answered for the boy. “He usually stands guard on the wall.”
“Aye, he does. But he left with the laird when he and Lady Victoria left the castle,” Ronson told them.
“Did he?” Edith asked with a frown, peering down at the man. Lonnie’s face was turned their way, his mouth open, his eyes too, and she had to look away. The man had obviously been dead awhile. He was unrecognizable to her.
“Aye. He does no’ look like Lonnie, but I saw Magda give him that kerchief when he left. She said ’twas to remember her by,” Ronson said.
Edith glanced back to see the bit of cloth the boy spoke of tied around Lonnie’s arm.
“Come.” Niels stood abruptly and began to usher them back through the woods to the clearing. “I’ll return ye both to the castle and then bring back men and a wagon to get Lonnie.”